Every Soul a Starr
by Jada17
Summary: Sequel to "Sam's Guardian". As Mist struggles to control her powers and her feelings for Sam, another hunter makes her way into the Winchester's life, a hunter from Dean's past.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm so glad to be finally posting this! **

**To new readers: This is the sequel to "Sam's Guardian" so if you haven't read that, you probably should, it'll make this Fic easier to understand. **

**To my other readers: I'm sorry it took me so long to get this posted! **

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8:59 pm, San Francisco, California, Muir Woods National Monument.

She ran as fast as she could, lungs burning with each inhalation of the cool air. As she ran, she didn't bother moving the low hanging branches from her path, there was no time. She didn't even flinch when a branch cut her face. The damn thing was getting away from her and if she lost it now, she wouldn't have a chance of getting it for another month. She ran and stopped, realizing it wasn't in front of her anymore. She looked around and took a cautious step forward. She was tackled to the ground by the damn thing, and although she kept it from biting her, it managed to claw through her shirt, bra and jeans and dig its claws into her skin. Mostly her stomach. She groaned and grabbed the silver plated hairstick she had stuck through her bun and stabbed it in the arm.

It howled in pain and got off of her, running in the opposite direction. She jumped up and followed it through the trees. As she jumped over a log, the damn thing grabbed her ankle and pulled it. She landed hard on the ground, hearing the _crack _of her shoulder as she landed on it awkwardly. She panicked only momentarily when she tried to inhale, but the breath wouldn't come. After a few seconds, her breath was returned to her, but she remained on the cool forest floor. She focused on slowing her breathing and keeping completely still. It had an advantage over her. It could see in the dark, so it was useless trying to find it. Why not let the thing come to her? Before closing her eyes, she could see that the only light was that of the stars.

She smiled at the irony.

A twig snapped, maybe six- no, seven yards away. She held completely still. Her arm started to throb. She wondered if she had any ibuprofen in the backpack she left on her bike. She closed her brown eyes and shut off her brain. It wasn't time to think. It was time to hunt.

Another twig snapped, this time closer. Maybe five feet, definitely no more than six. She could smell its putrescent breath. it was coming closer, smelling her, being careful to see if she was actually unconscious or not. It was waiting for her to show the smallest of signs; a hitch in her breathing, her eye opening, anything. She kept quiet as it came closer.

Three feet. Two. Now it was crouching next to her. She could feel its face next to her chest- her heart more specifically. She waited. Right as the werewolf rose its clawed hand to rip out her heart; she pulled the silver knife from her armguard and, grabbing its shoulder, shoved the knife into its heart until it couldn't go any further. It howled and grunted in pain, writhing on the forest floor as it died. It stopped shaking and it morphed back into the 14 year old boy it once was. He looked up at her with tears in his eyes.

"H-Help…" He swallowed and tried again. "Help me? Please, something for the pain?" She looked down at him with no emotion in her eyes. She pulled out her gun from her leg holster and aimed, shooting him once in the head. This kid had been bitten by a werewolf about a year ago, according to her research, and had killed almost forty people around his hometown.

She took the boy's hands and folded them over his chest. Then she knelt down next to him and reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a necklace. On it, only an eye, the evil eye. Her sign. She laid it on his forehead before standing up and making her way through the forest and back to the parking lot.

She made it back to her bike and opened up her backpack, pulling out a bottle of ibuprofen and swallowing three dry. After securing the backpack on her back, she threw a leg over the bike and started it up. She sped back to her motel room and stumbled to the door. She fumbled with the lock for a moment; her eyelids were growing heavier each second. She'd been up for three nights straight trying to find the werewolf, and since she had— and it was dead— she could rest.

She finally opened the door and threw her bag on the floor before closing the door behind her. She took a step towards the bed and tripped over something. She managed to crawl to the bed and pull herself up onto it. As soon as she was lying down, she figured she'd fall into a yet another night of dreamless sleep.

But for once in three years, Starr dreamed. She dreamed of someone she hadn't thought of in damn near eleven years.

_Seattle, Washington, Clover Inn Motel, 2001_

_An 18 year old Starr sat on the bed, flipping through a book about changelings; her uncle had left an hour ago to find some vampire's nest, her aunt left to go to the coroner's office to take a second look at the dead bodies that had been drained of blood. They told her to wait there for them, that is was gonna be an easy hunt. She reluctantly agreed. _

_Her head snapped up as headlights shone through the hotel room window. She got up and looked through the window and saw her Uncle Steven, stumbling out of his car, clutching his stomach. Starr flung open the door and ran out to meet him. _

_Steven was a tall man, damn near six foot seven, with a short head of dark hair and dark eyes that seemed even darker against his mocha colored skin. He usually carried himself with confidence, the very essence of power. But seeing her uncle, her only family left since her parents died five years ago, looking nearly torn apart, scared Starr more than she'd ever be willing to admit. _

_"What happened!?" Starr asked, helping Steven into the room. Starr laid her uncle on the bed and gasped at his stomach. "Steve, what happened?" When she received no answer, Starr looked up at her uncle. He was unconscious. She shook him and called his name but he wouldn't wake up. Blood was spilling out of his mouth. She looked down and found that he'd been stabbed with his own silver knife. She reached into her pocket and dialed 911. Within five minutes, an ambulance came, along with several police cars. _

_As the ambulance carrying Steve disappeared, her aunt Ivy drove up. Ivy was quite the opposite of her husband. She was a petite, blue-eyed, ivory skinned woman who was barely 5"5". She had long mahogany red hair that fell to the middle of her back in soft curls. She had always had a graceful air about her, whether she was dancing ballet in her studio, or wrestling a zombie to the ground, she always did it gracefully. Starr jumped in the car and explained everything to her aunt as they followed the ambulance. _

_They'd been waiting for an hour in the waiting room; Starr was wearing clothes soaked in her uncle's blood. She sat with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her knees. Anyone who saw or walked past her stared at the teenage girl in bloody clothes. She didn't care. All she cared about was finding out if her uncle was okay. _

_At some point, Starr must've fallen asleep because she was woken up by Ivy's voice. "Starr, honey?" The girl sat up. "I called an old friend of mine, a hunter. I'm going to stay here with Steve. I need you to work the case with him when he comes."_

_"No, I'm staying here with you-" Starr was interrupted by her aunt._

_"I need you to do this." She said. "There isn't enough time for him to acquire all the information _and _find the nest in time. You need to help him. Be strong." Starr nodded, and soon fell asleep in the waiting room again for about five minutes when she was awakened by someone calling her name._

_"Starr?" There was silence for a while before someone sat down next to her. "Starr." She reluctantly moved her eyes from the ground to the man sitting next to her. He had dark brown hair and the faintest hint of stubble along his jaw. His dark brown eyes watched her with concern and understanding. That's what caught her interest; he understood what she was going through. _

_"Who're you?" She mumbled. _

_"My name is John Winchester. I'm a hunter, Ivy Fremont called me." He held his hand out for her to shake; she ignored it, staring into his dark eyes. He retracted his hand and motioned to the guy standing behind him. "This is my son, Dean." She looked over his shoulder at the guy, maybe in his early twenties with light brown hair and hazel eyes._

_"Well," She took a breath. "Let's get to work. Those vampires aren't gonna kill themselves." She noticed John look down at her clothes. She'd forgotten she'd been wearing bloody clothes. "First we'll need to stop at my hotel room."_

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**Sam, Dean and Mist will be in the next chapter! R&R!**


	2. Chapter 2

"Sam!" Dean called as he was slammed up against the wall. He and Sam had stumbled across a very evil, very pissed off, spirit while crossing through North Dakota. They tracked her to the basement of this small shack in the middle of nowhere. "A little help please?"

Sam came bursting through the door, shotgun in hand and shot the ghost in the back. She disappeared momentarily but kept coming back. And she never paid any mind to Sam, but kept attacking Dean, over and over. She shoved him against the wall once more and held him there, digging her nails into his chest.

Dean groaned. "Sam, go burn her bones!" But before Sam had even moved, the ghost went up in flames, screaming as someone burned her bones. Dean fell to the ground and gasped for air. "What'd you do? Put a bomb in her grave?"

"I didn't do it, Dean." Sam said, very confused.

Dean scrunched his brows together. "Then who did?"

The two gathered up their supplies and headed outside, still in the dark about what had just happened. As they walked through the front door, they saw, parked next to the Impala, was a white hummer. Both Winchesters looked around for the owner as they put their supplies in the trunk. They heard the crunch of leaves behind them but kept their backs turned.

"You guys _so _owe me dinner." A voice called from the shadows of the surrounding forest. They whipped around, guns in hand, and aimed at the source of the noise. "Whoa!"

Sam instantly lowered his gun and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans. He squinted in the dark, trying to see if it was who he was hoping it was. "Michelle?"

She stepped out into the light then with a smile on her face. Her long brown hair that used to fall to her waist had been cut since they'd seen her last; now it reached down to the middle of her back. Her wild green eyes were as he remembered. She was wearing a long sleeved black shirt and dark blue skinny jeans tucked into a pair of flat, black knee high leather boots.

"Hey Sam." She nodded at the older Winchester. "Dean."

"Hey Michelle." Dean greeted.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked. "Last I heard, you were headed to Greece, to find out more about Morpheus."

"Well," She shrugged. "I was, but a certain angel popped in and zapped me here." She noted Dean wince at the mention of his friend, Castiel. "Guess he thought I was needed more here."

"Sorry about him." Dean said. Six months earlier, after Michelle had been released from the hospital, Sam and Dean had stayed at their friend, Sheriff Jody Mills' house to heal and catch up. Jody wouldn't let them leave until they were all rested up. After a week at her house, the brothers were ready to move on, but Cas liked it at her house. Jody told the boys that the angel could stay, which the angel was thrilled about. And when he wasn't out looking for Meg, he stayed there. So to the residence of Sioux Falls, Castiel was Jody's cousin.

She held up a hand, silencing him. "It's fine." She walked to her truck and opened the back, putting her duffel bag in the back. "Are you okay, Dean? She must've banged you up pretty bad."

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

Michelle reached into her pocket and pulled out a newspaper clipping. There was a picture of a man, who looked a lot like Dean, but in clothes from the late 1800's. "That spirit? Her name was Regina Kelly. She was killed by that guy in 1898. The similarities between you two are pretty obvious, so it makes sense that she'd go after you."

"Huh," Dean said, looking at the clipping. Sam looked at the picture, then at Dean, noting the similarities. When Sam looked up, Michelle was walking back into the forest. Dean smirked as Sam took a few steps towards where she was standing.

"Dean-"

"Let's go, Romeo." Dean said.

They walked through the woods until he came across Michelle's figure against a lantern that she'd hung on the limb of a nearby tree. She was shoveling the dirt back into Regina's grave while a song played loud on her phone.

_Where there is desire,_

_There is gonna be a flame,_

_Where there is a flame,_

_Someone's bound to get burned,_

_But just because it burns,_

_Doesn't mean you're gonna die._

_You've gotta get up and try, try, try,_

As they got closer, they could hear her singing quietly along with it. Dean elbowed his brother and raised an eyebrow as Michelle bent over a low branch to change the song on her phone. Then the music changed to a country song and Sam smiled as she danced a little while the singer sang about cowgirls.

"Enjoying the view?" She asked, shoveling some dirt into the grave.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. "How'd you know we were here?"

"My spidey-sense was tingling." She responded casually. She stopped shoveling and turned to the brothers. "Well? Make yourselves useful, grab a shovel."

xXx

Sam, Dean and Michelle had just finished filling the grave and were walking back to their vehicles. Dean had gone up ahead to start his car. Sam snuck a look every once and a while as they walked in silence. She wore a smile on her dirt covered face.

Just the sight of her smiling made him grin. "What?"

She looked up at him and shook her head. "Nothing."

He nudged her lightly with his elbow. "Come on, what?"

"I was just thinking." Dean walked over to them as she dug out her keys and unlocked her truck. "I am starving, you know, all that work saving your asses and all, and you guys still owe me dinner."

Dean laughed as he got into the Impala. "Is that your way of asking me out? I knew she had the hots for me."

"Ha, ha," She said, smiling and shaking her head.

"There's a bar in town Dean and I ate at yesterday. We'll treat you there." She nodded and jumped into the hummer and turned it on. She was about to put it into drive when Sam knocked on the passenger side window. She rolled it down.

"Hey, could I ride with you?" He asked. "Dean's blaring Black Sabbath again."

She raised a brow. "Yeah, hop in." After he fastened his seatbelt, she started forward. "So how are things between you and your brother? Been catching up?"

He looked away from her. "Yeah, things are great. Everything's pretty much back to normal." Sam looked out the window as they left the woods and got onto the highway. "What about you? What've you been up to?"

What had she been up to? Mist gripped the wheel tighter. She hadn't planned for this question. She couldn't really tell Sam she'd been following him and watching over him since he'd pulled out of the hospital parking lot six months ago. So what could she say?

"You know, just," She glanced at the radio, wondering if she could turn it on with her powers. But she couldn't. Well she could, but she was trying not to using her powers unless it was absolutely necessary. "Been around. Hunting and stuff." He nodded, seeming satisfied.

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**Exclaimer: I don't own Pink's song 'Try'**

**Thanks for reading! R&R!**


	3. Chapter 3

"Don't tell me you're chicken," Mist, Dean and Sam were in a small bar, and Dean had just challenged Mist to a round of darts. After eating, of course. He'd made her a bet: If he beat her at darts, she'd tell them her life story.

Dean wanted to learn as much about her as possible. Sure, Sam trusted her completely, but he wasn't thinking clearly. Love tended to do that to you. And from the moment he saw Sam look at her, he knew his brother had fallen fast and hard. It wasn't that Dean didn't like her, she was smart, funny and an honest to god babe, he just didn't trust her, not completely anyways. He'd admit, from what Sam had told him about her, she seemed like a good hunter but still, he didn't trust anyone he didn't know anything about.

Mist thought about it for a moment and had decided to say no, but one look into Dean's know-it-all smirk and she was helpless to say no.

"Fine." Dean stood up with a proud smile as Sam shook his head and smiled. Mist grabbed Dean's arm as he reached for the darts. "You might wanna hear my side of the bet before we start."

"Don't need to." He chuckled. "I'm pretty good." He said with a smirk clear on his face. She knew he was great at darts, but she had magic on her side.

"Dean-" Sam tried to interject but Dean cut him off with the wave of his hand.

"Sam, I know what I'm doing."

She raised her brow. "Are you sure?"

He narrowed his eyes and smiled, his look challenging her. "I'm sure." She returned his smile with a sly one of her own, making her laugh when his faltered for a moment.

Sam chuckled as he watched Michelle and Dean's banter. He took a drink of his beer as he thought about the question she'd asked him on the way over here. How were things between him and Dean? He'd said that everything was fine. But that was far from the truth.

In the day, and when he was fully awake, Dean was just fine. But during the night, usually about 2 or 3 hours into Dean's sleep it would start. It would begin with small whimpers and murmuring, then it would escalate to full-blown convulsions and screaming. When Sam shook him awake he'd have a temperature of probably 106 degrees (that was Sam's best guess because there was no way Dean would let him take his temperature). Dean would say he was fine, drink some liquor and fall back asleep. Sam wasn't sure of it was memories of purgatory, like PTSD, or something else, but whatever it was, Dean wasn't up for sharing.

As he mulled over that, Sam noticed a sweet smell in the air next to him. It smelled like raspberries, and a bit like vanilla. He smiled as he realized it was the smell of Michelle's hair as she leaned closer towards him and laid her hand on his arm.

"Is he always this cocky?" She whispered.

He laughed quietly and nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Alright, lovebirds," Dean interjected; Michelle blushed as the eldest Winchester smirked. Sam sent him a glare. "Are we gonna play or did you two wanna get a room?"

"Okay," She turned to Dean. "Let's do this."

Five minutes later, Mist was leaning back in her chair with her boot clad feet on the table and a smirk plastered to her face as Dean sat with his head in his hands. She'd won, and she didn't even need to use her powers to do it. Sam was still laughing at the dumbstruck look on his brother's face when Michelle had beaten him.

Dean ran his hands down his face and sighed. "Alright, what is it?"

Mist batted her eyes innocently. "What do you mean?"

He chuckled dryly. "Cute. What do I have to do?"

She tapped a finger on her chin and looked up. Finally, she smiled a smile that made Dean get a bad feeling. "Go to the bar, and order a Pink Panty Dropper." Sam, who had been in the middle of swallowing a drink of his beer, choked on it as he laughed. "But you have to order it from _that_ bartender."

She nodded to a big burly bartender with long brown hair. He had tattoos covering arms and up his neck. Dean ran a hand over his face and mumbled, "Have you seen that guy? His hands are bigger than my head! He'd throw me outta here faster than-"

"No, I don't think he will." Both brothers gave her a questioning look, to which she grinned. "He's been checking out your ass for the past five minutes." As she spoke she saw the bartender, checking Dean out.

Dean sent a glare her way and stood up. He walked towards the bar and once he got there, he turned and flipped her off. She gave him a thumbs up and grinned. He leaned forward on the bar as he waited for the group next to him to order.

Mist chuckled as Sam shook his head.

"He's gonna get me back for this isn't he?" It was more of a statement than a question. Sam looked over at his brother and then at the woman next to him.

He nodded. "Oh yeah." She bit her lip as she laughed and he smiled. Not at Dean's current predicament, although that was pretty damn funny too, but Sam found himself happy just to hear her laugh, or speak, even. Despite the many times he'd denied it to Dean, Sam knew. He knew how fast he was falling for her and he didn't even know that much about her.

He looked at her as she laughed. Her green eyes twinkled and the corners of her mouth were turned up in a beautiful smile. Once she got her laughing under control, she sighed and ran a hand through her hair. He looked down at her other hand, which was clasped around her bottle of mineral water. There, peeking out from under her sleeve, on the back of her hand was an angry, red, welted burn.

"Whoa," Sam took her hand in his and moved to pull her sleeve up. Her other hand whipped up and grabbed his wrist. He looked at her in confusion. "What happened?"

She sighed and pulled her hands from his and laid them in her lap. She looked around the room before meeting his eyes. "I was taking look under the hood of my truck and I accidentally touched the radiator cap while it was still hot."

"Oh," Sam nodded as she looked around him. He didn't buy it. When he looked up, Michelle was grinning and looking at something behind him. Sam turned and saw Dean walking back towards them, a pink liquid in a small glass and a death glare set on the two hunters at the table. He sat down at the table and, after sending Michelle one last glare, he swallowed the drink.

He set down the glass and threw a small piece of paper at her. "I hate you." He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, looking very much like an upset 9-year-old. The female smiled in confusion and unfolded the paper. She bit back a laugh as she read the bartender's number and the dirty message under it and handed it to Sam, who did the same.

"You two suck." Dean just sat there, trying to keep a smirk off his face. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table and waited for her to stop laughing. "You better be careful princess because I'm _so_ getting you back for this."


	4. Chapter 4

After leaving the bar, the three had gone back to the hotel. Mist got a room a few doors down from Sam and Dean's.

In the Winchester's room, Dean was trying to find _any_ trace of Michelle Matthews in _any_ database; birth records, school records, warrants, bank accounts…even a friggin e-mail address but he came up empty. Meanwhile Sam was reading up on some recent killings in California. Well, he was trying to anyways. His mind kept thinking back to Michelle, that burn on her hand, the shade that was after her. After a good ten minutes of reading the same sentence over and over, he closed his laptop and went to the door.

"Where you going?" Dean asked, his smirk evident through his voice. "Gonna go see your _girl_friend?"

"Dean, she's not-" Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm going for walk."

"Right," Dean said. "You're just gonna go for a late night stroll all by yourself." Sam was about to close the door when Dean called him.

"What?" Sam asked, clearly exasperated.

"Oh, touchy, touchy." Dean raised his hands in mock surrender. "I was just gonna say you should bring your jacket."

Sam scrunched his brows. "What?"

Dean smiled. "Michelle might get cold on your little romantic walk."

"Ha-ha." Sam commented dryly. He shut the door and took a few steps towards Michelle's room and stopped. Sighing, he turned around, opened the door to his room, and grabbed his jacket. Before closing the door again, he pointed at his brother, who was shaking with laughter. "Not a word."

xXx

Mist lit a match and tossed it into the bowl on the floor. Flames flew up as she summoned him. She got off her knees and stood up, looking around the room. The lamp by the door flickered. She looked at it for a moment before that tingling feeling went down her spine.

"Hello beautiful." His voice greeted from behind her. She turned around to face Azazel, resting her hands on her hips with a cold glare set on him. He took a step towards her. "To what do I owe this great pleasure?"

She said nothing, but pulled off her hoodie, and took off the black satin vest she was wearing under it.

Azazel looked a little surprised, but kept the smirk on his face. "Well, I'm up for it, but what about Sam? Isn't he your boyfriend now?"

She remained silent, only glaring at him as she took off the long sleeved black shirt, leaving her in a white tank top. From her wrists up to her shoulders, all across her stomach and down to her waist were markings in a language she'd never seen before, burned into her skin. The demon looked at her arms in mild amusement.

"Oh," He said with a smirk. "That."

"Yes, _that._" She said in an icy voice. "What the hell is it?"

"Hey," He responded in an equally cold voice. "Calm down, beautiful. It's our _agere_[1]."

"What?" She narrowed her eyes as she shook her head. "No, I never made a deal with you."

"Ah, but you did." He shrugged. "Not in the traditional way, but it was a deal none the less. That-" He pointed to her arm. "Is just the contract. So you won't forget about it."

"What are you _talking _about?" Frustrated, she ran a hand through her hair. "I never made a deal with you!"

"Six months ago, at that old church? You were unconscious in, couldn't wake up…" He smiled as she shifted her weight uncomfortably. "I helped you."

She scrunched her brows and looked down at the floor, trying to recall what happened. She remembered the wasteland, the place Guardians were sent to be recycled. She couldn't remember anything else. Before she had a chance to react, Azazel grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. She pushed against him as he pressed two fingers to her temple.

Memories, from Azazel's point of view filled her vision. She went back to that night, when Dean and Castiel had come back from purgatory.

_Azazel was about to walk out the doors of the chapel when a familiar scent crossed his nose. He stopped, a smile creeping onto his face as he walked past the many pews. He stopped when he reached the steps of the podium. Lying there on the floor next to the podium was the young woman Azazel had never forgotten about. She lay on her side, head resting on her outstretched arm, her back to Azazel._

_"Well, well, well," Azazel said, walking closer to the unconscious girl on the floor. She looked much different than she had when he'd met her last time. Then she had brown waist-length hair and tanned skin, now she had pale skin and shoulder-length black hair that made her skin seem even paler. But he could sense that it was Mist on the inside. He knelt down next to her and turned her from her side to her back. _

_The demon raised a hand and pushed a strand of her black hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear. As he pulled his hand back, hers whipped up and grabbed his wrist in an iron grip. He didn't even try to move, knowing that he wouldn't be able to. He wasn't sure what was happening to her, but he could sense that she was powerful right now- definitely more powerful than him._

_Her eyes snapped open, startling him when they were dimly glowing orange instead of the green he'd been expecting. Her eyes found his face instantly and a low, dangerous growl emitted from her throat. A warning. She looked at his hand and back at him face in a less than a second. _

_"Azazel." Her voice was different; it almost sounded like a hiss. With that one word, his own name, chills were sent down his spine. "Not dead?" _

_Before he could answer, she released his wrist as tremors shook her body. Her hands flew to her stomach, where the pain must have been coming from. She turned onto her side and curled up into a ball as the roots of her ebony hair turned brown. Her normal brown color flowed down the length of her hair, replacing the black until all her hair was back to its own brown. At the same time, her pale skin returned to her olive toned complexion. _

_Azazel didn't move a muscle as her transformation started and finished. Once again, he rolled her from her side onto her back. He could no longer see her chest moving. He picked up her now limp hand and held it in both of his. He could sense that she was lingering on the brink of death. He thought back to that night twenty-nine years ago, the first and only time he'd ever seen her. He'd sensed her many of times when Sam had been near, but he never saw her again until tonight. He remembered the plans he had for this girl, and how they were interrupted. _

_He smiled as she caught a breath and groaned. Her eyes still closed, she raised her other hand and put it over Azazel's. _

_"Sam?"_

_The demon chuckled and shook his head. "Nope. Guess again."_

_That got her to open her eyes. They were green again. They widened when she saw just who was holding her hand. She took a ragged breath as her eyes flickered orange. Azazel dropped her hand. She scrunched her eyes and threw her head to the side as an ear-splitting scream tore from her throat. _

_When she stopped moving, Azazel closed his own eyes and tried to enter her mind. But he was, literally, thrown out. His body went flying back into one of the pews. From what little he saw in that pretty little head of hers, he gathered that Mist was fighting off whatever orange-eyed thing had taken control of her body. He didn't know what it was, but it was powerful, more powerful than a demon or anything he'd sensed before._

_He could hear three sets of footsteps going up the stairs and hurried back to the girl. "Why don't I help you out?" He entered her mind once more, this time he was prepared for the powerful force of energy that tried to slam him out. Once he'd finished, he pulled out from her mind and stood up. Her eyes fluttered open as he winked at her. _

_"You owe me one, beautiful." He disappeared as she fell unconscious again._

Then she was falling. Falling faster than she would've ever thought possible. Mist was slammed back into her body; she grabbed onto the demon's jacket so she wouldn't fall. She faintly registered a knocking sound, but she was still trying to gain consciousness. No doubt she would've fallen to the ground if Azazel's arms hadn't been holding her up. When she opened her eyes, her head was back, exposing her neck, and her hands were clenching his jacket.

"Let me go." She mumbled, scrunching her eyes for a moment, trying to see clearly.

He smirked at her. "You first." She looked down and saw that her hands were still gripping his jacket. She felt the heat rush to her face as she uncurled her fists. He let her go and looked at her door. "You've got a visitor."

"What did you do?" She asked, ignoring the knock at her door. "How did you help me?"

Azazel's eyes flickered from her to the door, then back to her before answering. "We'll save that story for another day, beautiful. You should get the door." She already knew who was at the door, but she also knew Azazel would leave as soon as she turned her head, and she nowhere near close to being done talking to him.

"You'd better get out there," He said. "Sammy is waiting." She turned her head towards the door and when she looked back at the demon, he was gone. She muttered a few curses and walked to the door. After pulling her shirt and vest back on, she opened the door to see Sam's worried face.

"Hey, Sam." She greeted, trying to at least sound casual.

"Hey. Is everything okay?" He tried to look inside, but she laid a hand on his chest and pushed him back as she stepped outside, shutting the door behind her.

"Yeah, why?"

He looked from her to the door, back to her again and shook his head. "Uh, no reason I was just," He sighed. "I wanted to talk to you, about something."

She nodded. "Sure, what's up?"

He looked around before motioning to the side walk that went from the hotel to the town square. "Could we take a walk?"

"Yeah, that'd be great." She said as they started walking. "It was getting a little stuffy in there anyway."

The two left the hotel and began walking down the street, going nowhere in particular. She looked up at him every once and a while, his brooding demeanor evident on his face; his brown eyes glued to the ground in front of him. After ten minutes of silence, except for the occasional honking of cars speeding by, did she break the silence.

"What's wrong Sam?"

He looked over at her, her green eyes wide with concern. He gave her a sad smile. "It's-" He wanted to ask her about her burns, but decided on a subject more pressing. "It's about Dean."

When he hesitated, she bumped his arm lightly with her shoulder. "Hey, whatever you tell me stays with me." He looked into her eyes. "I swear."

He nodded. "I know, it's just, Dean would be pissed if he knew." She waited for him to go on. "I know you probably won't be able to help, but I don't know, I guess I just-"

"Need someone to talk to?" She offered.

"Yeah," He told her about Dean's nightmares and the fevers, and how they were escalating with each passing day. As he spoke, she listened intently, nodding every once and a while, but kept silent. They passed through the park and she took his arm, pulling him gently to a table. She sat criss cross on top of it, while Sam came to an end of his story.

They sat in silence, Mist mulling over what he'd just said, Sam wondering what was happening to his brother.

"Have you talked to Castiel?" She offered. "Maybe he-"

"He can't." He said curtly. "I called him, he wouldn't say why but he said he couldn't heal him."

"Did he say why this is happening?" He shook his head. "What about Dean? Have you spoken to him about this?"

He chuckled dryly. "Yeah, I mentioned it once. He said it was nothing to worry about."

She didn't know what to say. They remained silent until Sam's voice, sounding so hopeless, made Mist look at him.

"All the times before, when Dean hunted on his own while I was at Stanford, when he made that deal to bring me back and went to hell," He shook his head. "I just can't help but think…what if this time he can't just bounce back? What if he-"

She brought her hand to his face and turned his head towards her. "Sam, he's strong, and he came back, fought his way through hell and friggin' purgatory, just to get back to his brother." She sniffed and tucked her hand inside her sleeve against the cold wind. Sliding from the table top to the seat next to him, she continued. "And whatever he's going through, he'll get through, cause he's got the best brother in world."

He smiled and reached up, placing his hand over hers. The wind blew again and she let out a shaky breath. Her heart was pounding in her chest as his warm hand covered her cold one. She could've sworn she saw him move forward, but before she had time to see for sure, Mist pulled back her hand.

"So where is Castiel?" She asked, resting her elbows on her knees and looking down at the ground. She already knew, but it was something.

Sam cleared his throat. "He, uh, he was looking for one of his friends-"

"Meg? Has he found her yet?"

"No, not yet." He paused. "But when he's not looking for her, he stays with a friend of ours, Jody Mills. Seems she and Cas really hit it off."

She looked around and stood up. "We should get back." He nodded and they started walking back to the hotel. Halfway there, Sam looked over at her and smiled inwardly. He shrugged off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. She smiled as she inhaled his scent on the jacket.

"You looked cold."

"Yeah," She chuckled and looked ahead. "Thanks."

* * *

**[1] Agere means 'deal' in Latin.**

* * *

xXx

Hailey Jenkins, a forty-three year old woman who'd been cleaning this hotel for many years, opened the hotel room door and walked in with her cart, stopping when she saw the woman on the bed, all torn up and bloody.

"Oh my god," She murmured, her hand flying to her mouth. She timidly took step towards her. Was she dead? She took another step, then another and far sooner than she wanted, she was standing next to the woman.

"Hon?" She reached out a hand and gently shook her shoulder. The girl's eyes shot open and rested on the maid's face. Hailey reached for the phone on the table next to her to call 911 but the girl grabbed her wrist.

"Stop…"

Hailey gawked at her wrist. There had been blood on the girl's hand, and now it was on her wrist. She closed her eyes and tried to keep calm. "I'm gonna call 911. You need to get to a hospital."

"No." The girl breathed. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a cell phone. "J…"

"What?" Hailey leaned closer; the girl seemed to be straining herself to even speak.

"John…" She murmured. "…Winchester." She handed Hailey a cell phone. "Please, just-" She was cut off by a fit of coughs, resulting in more blood spilling from between the fingers on her other hand, which was covering the wound on her stomach. When she stopped coughing, she took a deep breath and continued. "Just call him."

"You can call him when you're at the hospital." She said, reaching for the phone again.

"No, please." Hailey knew she should just call 911, but there was something about the girl that made her think maybe someone was after her. Why else wouldn't she want to go to the hospital? Of course, she could also be a wanted felon.

"Okay," Hailey grabbed the phone from the girl's bloody hand and, trying her best to ignore the blood on the buttons, searched through the contacts until she found John Winchester. She pushed dial and put the phone a few inches from her ear. She looked over at the girl on the bed. "Honey, what's your name?"

Her brown eyes opened for a minute before fluttering closed. "I'm a hunter."

xXx

As they neared her hotel room door, Mist took off Sam's jacket. She handed it to him as they stopped in front of her door.

"Thanks for the jacket."

He nodded. "No problem. And thank you, for listening to me."

"Anytime." She smiled. They stood there, Mist leaning against the door and Sam with his hands in his pockets. She couldn't help but think there was something she was missing- he seemed to be waiting for something- but she wasn't sure what it was. "Well, I should get some sleep, long drive tomorrow."

Behind her back, she turned the doorknob and took a step back. Sam grabbed her arm as she started to walk into the room. "You'll come over, before you leave, won't you? To say goodbye?"

She nodded. "I will." They locked eyes, his brown ones looking into her green ones.

"Okay," He looked down before looking back at her. "Goodnight." He had started walking away when she walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned abruptly, making her bump into him.

She took a breath and threw her arms around his neck, wrapping him in a warm hug. It got a bit warmer as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to him. "Everything is gonna be okay, Sam." She pulled her head back to look him in the eyes. "I promise."

He nodded and looked into her eyes. The intensity of his gaze surprised her and before she knew it, she was blushing. It was an odd reaction. Why would that happen now? It seemed an odd reaction to have when she'd known him for twenty-nine years.

She decided to believe that it was the cold wind.

As her arms dropped from his shoulders, his arms left her waist but his hands stayed on her hips. She felt all ten of his fingers burning through her clothes and she began to blush harder. Tugging on her hips, Sam pulled her close. Lowering his head down to hers, Mist gasped in surprise just before his lips touched her own. Gently, she pulled back just enough to still feel her breath against his lips. Then, completely ignoring the feeling of breaking an important rule, she leaned in, returning the kiss. Sam moved a hand up, palm to her cheek, holding her face gently in one hand.

xXx

Dean smirked as Sam and Michelle passed by the window. Shaking his head, he continued reading about Abaddon.

In purgatory, Dean had been attacked by that ugly sonofabitch. And in the attack, Abaddon had bitten him on his right bicep. Since he'd gotten back, the wound had gotten better- physically, anyway. There was no blood, no scar, nothing. But the poison was beginning to take a hold on his mind. At night, he'd dream of purgatory, hallucinate about his worst memories and almost every night, Sam had had to shake him awake.

He hadn't told Sam about the poison from Abaddon. He knew he'd have to eventually, but until that moment, Dean wasn't gonna let this burden his little brother.

Then his phone started ringing. He took it out of his pocket and looked at the screen. It wasn't that phone. He looked at his bag on the bed and got up, unzipping the inner compartment and pulling out several of his dad's old phones. When he found the one, he flipped it open.

"Yeah?"

A scared female voice answered. "John Winchester?"

"Who is this?"

"Please, she's bleeding so much and she won't go to a hospital. She said to call you." She said quickly. "Please hurry." She paused and Dean heard another voice in the background. "She says she's a hunter."

"Who is this?"

"Hailey Jenkins. I'm a maid at the motel 6 in San Francisco."

Dean shook his head. He couldn't think of any female hunters that his father knew—that were still alive anyways. He grabbed a pen and paper off the table. "Okay, give me the address."

xXx

"Ahem," Mist jumped back, tearing her lips from Sam's, and looked around Sam to see Dean leaning against the door frame with a smirk on his face. She blushed even harder. "Sorry to interrupt, but uh," He looked at Sam. "We've gotta go."

Sam looked at him incredulously. "Seriously, right now?"

Dean looked from his brother to the girl and back. His smirk dropped and he raised his hand, in it was one of their dad's old cellphones. "Got a call, a hunter's bleeding out in a hotel room in San Francisco as we speak." When Sam said nothing, Dean looked at their connected hands and then over at Michelle. She was blushing so badly, which brought the smirk back to his face. "I'm gonna pack up our stuff so…make it quick you two."

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean went back inside. He looked back at Michelle and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, he's-"

"It's fine, I just-" She looked at her hand; he was still holding onto it. She finally looked up. "That was just incredibly embarrassing."

"You think _that _was embarrassing?" He asked. "I have to be in the same car with him for god knows how long. You don't think I'm gonna hear about this the whole ride to California?"

She laughed. "Yeah, you've got it worse."

Dean came through the door carrying all their bags and threw them into the trunk. Then he got behind the wheel, waiting for his brother.

Sam sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry-"

She held a hand up. "I understand. It's part of the job." In truth, she was glad they were leaving; it'd give her time to think.

He gave her hand one last squeeze and got into the car.

* * *

**Please R&R! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry this took a while! Hopefully this'll make up for it! **

* * *

Mist was sitting on the bed in her hotel room in North Dakota. She sat crisscross on the bed with her eyes closed and breathed in deeply. After she and Sam had kissed, she had walked inside and sat on the bed for four hours. There were too many emotions and problems running through her brain all at once and she was having a hard time sorting them out.

Rubbing her temples, Mist attempted to put her thoughts in order. She loved Sam, as every Guardian does love their charge, but this felt different. She didn't know how, but it wasn't the same kind of love she felt for him before he'd met her. Each time that he looked at her, she felt nervous and her pulse would speed up. And she knew that he felt something for her, but she assured herself that it nothing more than the Bond.

The Bond was a connection that all Guardians shared with their charges. Her mentor and archangel, Gabriel, had once described the Bond as a long hallway. At one end of the hall was the mind of the Guardian, at the other end was the mind of their charge. All the Guardian had to do was unlock the door to the charge's mind and their minds were linked. That way, the Guardian could feel what their charge was feeling, if they were scared or in danger, their Guardian felt it.

There seemed to be no solving that problem, so Mist moved on to the next: Azazel and his claim that a deal had been made.

Sure, he _claimed_ that he'd assisted somehow that night at the church, when Dean and Castiel were brought back from purgatory, but how he 'helped'? She had no clue. What she did know, was that when she was in the wasteland, when the woman with the glowing orange eyes took control of her body, banishing the Shades in the church, Mist had a hard time controlling her power. It was like being caught in the middle of a storm in the ocean; no matter how hard you try, you can't calm the waves down. She had, in the end, regained control over her power, but it had nearly cost her life.

The next thing: she knew it was only a matter of time before Morpheus, the Shade, returned. He'd return and she knew the first thing he'd do: take Sam and start where he left off, torturing him to death. There was no way she'd let him hurt Sam, not again. She'd have to find a way to find a way to kill him. Simple as that.

"You okay, kiddo?" His voice came from in front of her.

She kept her eyes closed and sighed, slightly annoyed that he's managed to sneak up on her. "Yes, Gabriel. I'm fine."

"You sure about that?"

"Yes." She was aware that she sounded a bit testy and she had a lot of things to deal with right now. But it wasn't his fault. She sighed inwardly and retracted her tone, replacing it with politeness. "Why do you ask?"

"Uh," He seemed to struggle to find the right words. "Open your eyes, kiddo."

She opened her eyes and looked at him pointedly. He motioned to the room. Mist looked around and a quiet gasp escaped her lips. Everything was floating. The TV, chairs, table, dresser, lamps and her bag, even the bed was a foot or so off the ground. Just as she was wondering how this had happened, everything dropped.

"What was that?" She asked, jumping off the bed as if it were going to grab her. "How—Did you do that?"

"Nope." He answered curtly. He opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped, closed his mouth and looked at her arms. "Take your shirt off."

Her heart skipped. Could he know about the marks on her arms? She decided to try playing it off and mustered up the best 'Gabriel' smirk she could. "Kinky. You first." She started to walk past him, when his hand shot out and grabbed her right arm.

"Mist." He said. His hazel eyes bore into hers with concern, and a touch of anger. "I'm not playing with you."

"You don't wanna play with me?" She tilted her head and Gabriel's eyes went wide her eyes flashed from their normal green, to orange. It lasted only a moment, but in that moment, Mist grabbed his wrist with her left hand and shoved him back. He crashed against the wall, leaving a good, man-sized hole there.

Just as quickly as it came, the rage was gone. Mist's green eyes widened and she ran to the archangel, helping him up and sitting him down on the bed.

"I am so sorry, Gabriel, I—I , I didn't mean to do that! I just—"

"Lost control?" He offered. She looked at the ground, too ashamed to look her mentor in the eye. He took her chin between his pointer finger and thumb, tilting her face up to look at him. "That's one of the reasons I came to talk to you."

"One of?"

He waved off her question. "Take it off. Your top."

She slipped off the long-sleeved shirt, leaving her in a white tank top. Gabriel stood up and gently took her arm, running his fingers over the raised burns on her arms. After ten minutes of looking at it, Gabriel released her arm and plopped back onto the bed, shaking his head.

"Azazel said that this was our contract," She spat the last word as if it left a bad taste in her mouth. "But I didn't make a deal with him!" She crossed her arms. "I'd remember kissing that narcissistic asina[1]."

"I'm afraid you did, Mist." She opened her mouth to deny it, but he held up a hand and continued. "A bit of it is in Latin, but the rest of it's written in a language I've never seen before. It's definitely not your run-of-the-mill crossroads deal. But it's a deal no less."

She put her hands on her hips and shook her head. "You're as crazy as the demon is."

"That night, when you and Sammy brought Dean and Castiel back from purgatory," He told her, snapping his fingers and taking a bite of the chocolate bar that had appeared there. "You remember the wasteland, don't you?"

"Of course."

"When you were there, remember the mirror that was there, and the woman inside of it, with the orange glowing eyes? When you touched the mirror, she reached through and pulled you into the mirror too."

"Yes, Gabriel, I was there, I remember."

"What do you remember after that?" He asked, his eyes searching hers as she scrunched up her brows and concentrated.

She shook her head. "Nothing. Until I woke up in the hospital."

"Well, kiddo," He said, finishing off his candy bar. "Allow me to explain. But let me start at the beginning. When the three angels created you, they gave you _too much_ power. You were specifically created to handle your Guardian powers, so you can easily control them. But you have more power in that head of yours. Power that you can't even imagine. That mysterious third angel who created you? He gave you power that you weren't meant to have. Power you can't control. You follow me so far?"

"Yes."

"I put up a block inside your mind," He explained. "Separating that power from your mind. That way—"

"I wouldn't unintentionally tap into that power and do something bad with it." She finished for him, earning her a raised eyebrow. She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

He grunted, but continued. "The night you brought Dean and Cas back, you were pulled into the mirror by that woman. When that happened, that block that I put up in your mind was destroyed. So all that power is running loose up there in your head."

"Yes, Trick, I remember. You told me this before." She stated tiredly. "But how were the blocks destroyed?"

"That woman, with the orange eyes, she represents your uncontrolled energy." When she scrunched her brows, he backed up, seeing that he'd lost her. "That power inside you? It created…an identity, so to speak."

"Me, but with pale skin, black hair and glowing orange eyes." She said, nodding in understanding.

"Exactly. That woman is pure desire and power. Nothing else." He told her. "It'll feed off of any frustration that's inside you. Try to use _that _to surface."

Mist frowned. "But I didn't want to hurt you, Gabriel. I wasn't even that mad when I, I-"

"Pushed me through the damn wall?" He finished. "That wasn't you, Mist that was your power. That power has a will of its own and it's been forced to lay dormant for hundreds of thousands of years. It's been angry and suppressed for so long, it's become evil."

"Evil." Mist repeated, thinking about having something evil inside her; she shook her head. "No. Power isn't evil. It's not good or evil. Joshua said so—"

"Joshua never encountered anything as powerful as you, Mist, no one has." He said. "You're special, kiddo."

She shook her head. "What does this have to do with me floating the furniture?"

"Since that block is gone," He tapped the side of her temple. "That power is running around your noggin, trying to surface."

"Why?" She asked.

"Think about it." He told her. "It's more powerful than anything anyone has ever seen before, and it's been tied down for hundreds of thousands of years. Forced to be a prisoner. To watch, but never act. That power wants revenge, I'm guessing on me, mostly."

"Because you're the one who blocked it." She said, the realization dawning on her. "And Azazel?"

"That night, when the demon found you, you were unconscious—"

"I know." He looked at her in confusion. "I summoned him here a few hours ago. He showed me what happened, but I still don't understand how he helped me."

"You summoned him?" He asked, seeming a bit agitated.

"Yeah," She said slowly.

"Mist, you can't just—we'll talk about that later." He started pacing slowly from one side of the room, to the other. "Azazel attacked that power while you were trying to get control of it. He surprised it long enough for you to reign it in. You, in turn, owe him a debt."

She sighed. As if she didn't have enough to worry about, now she owed a debt to a demon? "Great. How do we break it?"

He plopped down on the chair by the window, put his feet on the table and snapped his fingers. A blond woman appeared and began to rub his shoulders. "_We_, as in you and I? We don't. I can't even read the damn thing, much less break it. That's powerful magic he's bound you with."

She groaned, running her hair through her hair in frustration. "Then _what_? I live with these burns on my arms until Azazel decides what sick thing he wants from me?!"

"You seem tense." He responded casually. Snapping his fingers, another woman appeared. "Relax, get a massage."

"Gabriel!" She snapped. "Can you keep your mind on the subject please?"

"Fine," He snapped his fingers and the two women disappeared. "I'll tell you what you have to do. But I'm also telling you this: you won't do it."

"Trick…" Her tone carried a warning. "I'll do anything to get these marks off me."

He removed his feet from the tabletop and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You have to tell Sam."

Her breath halted and all she could hear was the sound of her heart beating in her ear. "Tell Sam what?"

He snapped his fingers and both women disappeared. Leaning forward, he gave her a sad smile.

"Everything."

* * *

**[1] asina means 'ass" in latin**

**Thanks to my readers! Please R&R! **


	6. Chapter 6

_Seattle, Washington, Clover Inn, 2001_

_"So what have you got so far?" John asked as Starr came out of the bathroom. After leaving the hospital, John and Dean had given her a ride to her hotel room so she could change out of her bloody clothes and shower. _

_She wrung the extra water from her hair with the towel as she walked to one of the beds. Tossing the towel onto the small couch by the window, she reached under the bed and pulled out a large bulletin board with a map. She hung it on two nails in the wall and pointed to a blue section on the map. _

_"All the victims were taken from this side of town." She pointed to a red section. "Their bodies were found in this area." Then she pointed to a green section. "We're pretty sure that the nest is somewhere in this area."_

_"The nest must've thought you were getting too close to their nest." John commented. "So we need to find any vacant buildings or warehouses." He grabbed his duffel bag and headed to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he came back out in a suit. _

_"I'm gonna go to the corner's to take a look at that autopsy." Dean looked up as his dad headed for the door._

_"Want me to come?" _

_ "No. You stay here with Starr and find out where the vamps are hiding out. Call me when you find something." He opened the door and before he closed it, he looked at both of them; although Starr was sure that the look was sent more to Dean. "Behave." _

_A few minutes after he left, Starr looked over at Dean. His feet were propped up on the chair across from him as she sat on the window sill. His brow was creased in concentration as he looked online for abandoned buildings. She cleared her throat and sent a smirk his way when he looked at her. _

_"Bet you ten bucks I'll find it first." _

_He raised a brow and smirked. "No, that wouldn't be fair." She furrowed her brow in confusion. "I've been doing this a lot longer than you, sweetheart."_

_She raised a brow as she walked over to him. "Is that the reason? Or are you scared you're gonna lose to a girl?"_

_He narrowed his eyes. "I'm just trying to be a nice guy and save you ten bucks…and the embarrassment of losing."_

_"Ah, I see." She crossed her arms. "I still think you're scared."_

_"Fine." A smile grazed his lips, reminding her of a wolf after his prey. "You want a bet, sweetheart? You've got it. But let's make it twenty." _

_"Even better." She responded. "Oh, and don't call me sweetheart. Ever."_

_He grinned and they got to work. _

_A good ten minutes later, Starr hung up the phone and smirked. "Pay up, _sweetheart._"_

_His head snapped up. "What? No way." He got up and looked at the paper she held out to him. _

_She nodded. "It's the only abandoned building in the area that's got a basement with access to underground tunnels _and_ it's in the green zone." _

_He grabbed the phone and called his father, reporting the news. When he hung up, Starr looked at him expectedly. _

_"He's gonna check it out." He told her. "Just to make sure that the vamps are there. If they're there, he'll come back here and we'll make a plan."_

_"Good." She held out her hand. "Pay up." He sent a glare her way and dug out twenty bucks from his wallet. She simply smiled as she took the money. _

_"You suck." He muttered. _

_She grinned and threw an arm around his neck, leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "You know you love me." Chuckling quietly, she grabbed a book off the nightstand and plopped onto the bed; completely missing the smile he wore as he checked her out. _

_She was beautiful in a simple way, like the girl next door, with her shoulder-length light brown hair, pale skin and big brown eyes. She was feisty and playful, just Dean's type. He watched her as she tried to find her place in the book, her brow creased in concentration._

_She'd just found her spot when Dean grabbed the book from her hands. She laid there for a second before looking up at his smirking face._

_"Funny, now give it back." She said standing up._

_He walked over to the small couch by the window and sat down. "No…"_

_"Just give it back."_

_He grinned, which only pissed her off. "No."_

_"Is that the only word in your vocabulary, Winchester?" She asked, placing her hands on her hips. "Give me the damn book!"_

_"I'm pretty sure you know enough about…" He looked at the cover and read the title. "The History of the Rebellion by Edward Hyde Clarendon…Wow. The title alone almost made me fall asleep."_

_"Come on, I'm only on the fifth page." She reached for the book, but before her fingers could grasp it, Dean raised it behind his head with a smirk. "Give it back!"_

_"Five pages is way too much to know about this book." He said as he stood up, raising the book over his head and making her jump for it. He raised the book even higher as she grabbed his arm, trying to yank it down and laughed at the exasperated look on her face. "I never would've pegged you for a nerd, Kensington."_

_She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Dean, please give me the book back."_

_He looked thoughtful for a moment and lowered it, holding it out for her. "Fine, since you asked nicely." _

_Surprised, Starr looked up and reached out for the book. She barely touched the cover when he yanked it back. "For the love of God!" She groaned and pointed a finger at him. "I will kick your ass, Winchester! Give me the book!"_

_He smirked. "You wouldn't hurt me."_

_She put her hands on her hips. "You wanna test that theory? Give me the book or you'll find out if I'll hurt you or not." _

_He swung it around for a minute and watched her in glee as she raised her eyebrows. She glared and grabbed his ear, twisting it between her thumb and pointer finger. In surprise—and pain— he dropped the book and she picked it up giving him an 'I told you so' smirk. He frowned slightly as she dropped onto the couch, opening the book at the page she was at. He sat down next to her in a huff and she glanced over at him quickly, and she saw him wince as he rubbed his ear._

_He huffed slightly and folded his arms, looking away from her. "Seriously, how old are you?" He glared at her and she smiled at him. "Don't be a sore loser, Winchester."_

_"Loser?" He said incredulously. "Please, if we were to actually fight, you'd go crying to your uncle."_

_She tossed the book onto the bed and stood up, crossing her arms in front of her. "Okay. Fine, let's do it."_

_"What?" _

_"Fight." She told him. "Let's go."_

_He grinned, standing up. He slowly made his way to her and walked behind her, bringing his lips near to her ear. "Are you sure?"_

_His breath caressed her ear, making goosebumps cover her skin. She swallowed hard. "Positive." _

_"Okay then. Let's—" She threw her head back; causing him to stumble back. Then she turned around and kicked him in the stomach and he flew backwards onto the bed._

_"Good one." He got off the bed and threw a punch; she blocked it and retaliated by punching him in the face and then shoving him into the wall. They slammed each other around a bit before he managed to get in a punch to her stomach. He got behind her and wrapped his arms around hers, pinning them to her body, which turned out to be a bad idea. She kicked both feet off the wall, causing them to land on the loveseat by the window. _

_Starr got up from the couch but before she could get a punch in, he kicked low and knocked her feet out from under her. She reached up and delivered a good punch to his jaw before he took both her wrists in one of his and pinned them above her head. At this point, she was breathing hard, seeing as how he was like six inches taller than her and probably had a good forty pounds on her too._

_"You're good." He complimented. "But you've got a lot to learn, Sweetheart."_

_Starr glared at him and thrusted her head up and head-butted him. He loosened his grip on her wrists and she slipped them out from under his hands and pushed him off of her. _

_She swung her leg at him, meaning to kick him in the face but he caught her ankle. She grinned and used her other leg to lift herself off the ground and to kick him from the side. Dean stumbled sideways and turned around to take a shot at her. They matched blow for blow until she picked up the book she'd been reading and hit him over the head with it, only to push him back onto the bed. _

_She jumped on the bed, straddling him and grabbed his hands. In one smooth motion, Starr bent his fingers back a little. _

_"Uncle?" She taunted. _

_After a moment, he sighed. "Uncle." She released his hands and straightened her back, looking down at him with a grin. After he caught his breath, Dean grinned back at her, taking her by surprise. _

_"Good job," He said, then swiftly, before she could even tell he was going to move, he grabbed her hands, flipped her over and had her pinned underneath him. He held down both of her hands with his own._

_Dean let her hands go after a moment, but didn't make a move to get off her; instead, rested his hands on either side of her head and leaned in closer. They panted for breath as they watched each other. He felt the palms of her hands come to rest on his chest and leaned in even closer, his lips millimeters from hers. Starr watched as his hazel gaze traveled from her eyes to her lips and back again._

_There was a moment there, of pure silence. They just looked at each other, almost as if they were trying to read each other's minds. Then slowly, Dean leaned in. He stopped just before reaching her lips and raised his brows, making sure she okay with it. Gently, she leaned up, placing a light kiss on his lips. He moved his palm to her cheek, holding her face gently in one hand. It was then that he felt there was too much space between them. _

_His arms moved from her face, to trail lightly down her waist beneath her shirt, only to grasp her hips, pulling her firmly against him. Her own arms had made their way behind his back, only to inch their way up into his shirt. Dean's mouth trailed down her jaw, to rest at her neck; there he gently kissed her sensitive skin._

_She thought about the events that had led to this and as clothes began to shed, she had to admit, he was smooth... _

xXx

"So you don't know who it was?" That was the third or fourth time Sam had asked. It was the first thing he'd asked when Dean told him about the strange phone call. And each time he asked, he was given the same answer. They had driven all night and all day to get there.

"Not a clue." Dean responded. "The only female hunters dad knew that I knew of were Ellen and Annie."

"How do we know this isn't a trap?" Sam asked, glancing at his watch. It was eleven-thirty; they'd driven all day and evening to get there. "We could've called Garth. He could've sent a hunter who was closer."

Dean smirked. "Ah, you're just pissy because you had to leave your girlfriend. Just when things were getting' good."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean, come on, give me a break!"

"Oh, come on, Sammy's got a girlfriend." He sing-songed with a grin. After a moment of silence, Dean glanced over at his brother. "Seriously, though. What do you even know about her?"

"Really, Dean?" Sam sighed. "This again?"

"Yes. This again. Because every time I bring it up, you find a way to _not _answer my questions." Dean said, ignoring the eye roll given to him. "Now I know you've fallen fast and hard for her, okay, I can understand that. But look at this from my perspective. What if I started falling for some chick that you knew _nothing _about? What would you do?"

Sam nodded, understanding Dean's point. "I'd probably be doing the same thing."

"Right…So we've got a while before we get there."

Sam chuckled, knowing where his brother was going with this. "Alright, Dean, ask away."

"Where's she from?"

Sam blinked. "I don't know."

"How old is she?"

"I don't know."

"Does she have any family? Friends? Email address? Do we know any of the same hunters?" Sam was silent, clenching his jaw. "Sam, I'm not asking this to be a dick, okay? I'm glad you found her, _if _she's what she claims to be."

"Crowley." Sam said.

Dean sent a confused look at him. "What?"

"This could be Crowley setting us up. Some hunter's hurt, he knows we'd come running." Dean shook his head. Apparently, Sam was done talking about Michelle.

"I know," Dean said, turning into the parking lot of the hotel. "That's why we're going in armed." As he said it, he parked and shut off the car. He took a look at his watch he grimaced. It was 1:30 in the morning. They got out and walked towards the first door, room 18. They kept going, looking for the right one. Room 19, 20, 21, 22, then they found it. After a nod from Dean, Sam knocked on the door and the hunters drew their guns.

They cocked their guns as the door opened.

"_Ah!_" A middle aged woman answered the door. She had blood on her uniform and hands. "_Don't shoot!_" Exchanging looks, Sam and Dean lowered their guns. Still petrified, the woman placed a hand over her heart. "Which one of you is John Winchester?"

"We're his sons." Sam said. "What's going on?"

"I just came in here last night and she was in here," She moved to the side, letting them in. Once inside, Hailey quickly shut the door and turned on the light. Dean froze. Lying unconscious on the bed was someone he hadn't seen in over ten years. Someone he never thought he'd see again.

"Dean," Sam looked from his brother to the girl. "Dean?" When he didn't answer, Sam turned to the woman. "When did you find her?"

"Around ten last night." She looked at the girl.

Sam nodded. "Okay, ma'am, why don't you go home and get some sleep? We'll take care of her."

She looked unconvinced. "I don't know. I wouldn't feel right leaving that poor defenseless woman with two men packing guns."

Dean snorted. "'Defenseless' my ass."

Sam gave him a look before turning to the woman. "She'll be fine, ma'am, I promise." He dug into his pocket and pulled out a badge. "We're with the sheriff's department."

"Oh," She seemed to visibly relax. "Well, I guess that's okay then."

"I'll have to ask you keep quiet about this. At least until we know who she is." Sam said as he walked her to the door and she got into her car and drove home. He came back inside and stood next to Dean, crossing his arms. "Alright Dean, who is she?"

He shook his head. "Starr Kensington."

* * *

**What'd ya think? R&R!**


	7. Chapter 7

_Seattle, Washington, Clover Inn Motel, 2001_

_Dean took a deep breath, keeping his eyes closed, not wanting to get up. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and looked at the sleeping girl on his chest. Her black hair sprawled across her face. Her left hand, resting on his stomach, twitched a little as Dean looked at the clock, groaning inwardly at the time. It was two-thirty in the morning. He jumped a little as the phone rang. He reached for it as quickly as he could and answered quietly. _

_"Yeah."_

_"Dean, Starr was right. That warehouse is where the nest is." _

_"You coming to pick us up?"_

_"No. Her uncle doesn't want her to come with us." John replied. "You're gonna stay there with her. Ivy said she'll try to come anyways. You keep her in that hotel room. Do you understand?"_

_"Yes sir." Dean said. _

_"Good. I'll call when it's over." He hung up the phone. He was a little let down that he couldn't go with them on this hunt, but he was fine where he was. Dean heard Starr groan as she turned in bed so her back was facing him. He used his one arm to pull her closer to his body, wrapping his arms snugly around her._

_"Hey," She said as she covered his arm with hers. Her voice still sounded sleepy. _

_"Hey yourself." _

_She sat up, wrapped the sheet around her and stretched. "Who was on the phone?"_

_"My dad."_

_She turned around to face him. "Well? What did he say? Were the vamps at the warehouse? When is he coming to pick us up?"_

_"Yes, the nest was at the warehouse. No, he's not coming to pick us up. He's on his way to the hospital to pick up your aunt and uncle. They're gonna take care of the nest."_

_Starr's jaw dropped. "What! They're going without us?"_

_Dean furrowed his brow. "Yeah. What's the problem?"_

_"I helped track that nest! I wanna go with them!" She rolled her eyes at his uninterested look and got off the bed. She grabbed her duffel bag and started towards the bathroom. _

_"Where do you think you're going?" Dean asked. His tone made her want to smack him. He was talking to her like she was a child! And she was _not _a child._

_"I'm going to help them." She said, slamming the bathroom door. Dean groaned and started looking for his clothes. By the time she got out of the bathroom, he'd only found his boxers and jeans; his shirt was still MIA. He grabbed her arm as she opened the front door, pulling her back into the room and shutting the door again. _

_She glared at him. "What are you doing? Let go of me!"_

_He released her arm and shook her head. "I'm trying to keep you alive. You haven't been hunting as long as them, you could get hurt. I mean, look at your uncle Steven! He's one of the best hunters around and those vamps got the jump on him. They're dangerous."_

_"Exactly!" She exclaimed. "That's why we should be there to back them up!"_

_"_No_, my dad said to stay here until they get back," He folded his arms across his chest. "Or until we hear from them."_

_ "So?!" She exclaimed. "Just because daddy tells you to do something, doesn't mean you _have_ to, Dean! You _are_ an adult and you can make your own decisions!"_

_"He gave me an order, Starr, to stay here! And that's what we're gonna do." _

_"You can stay here and be a good little soldier, listening to daddy's orders, but me? I'm going to help my family. Whether they want my help or not."_

_"Starr—"_

_"When is the last time you made your own decision, Dean?" She interrupted. "Hm? Have you _ever _done something for yourself?"_

_"That's not the point, Starr." He told her, but the truth was, she had a point. "We're supposed to stay here. They don't want our help."_

_"How do you know?" She countered. "Did he tell you that?"_

_"No, but—"_

_"How are you gonna feel if something happened to your dad?" She asked, looking him in the eye. "Because if somethin' happened to Ivy or Steve, I would _never _forgive myself." He swallowed hard. "I couldn't live with myself, knowing that I could've prevented their deaths. Could you?"_

_"Dad gave me orders, Starr. I'm staying here…and so are you." _

_She stared at him incredulously for several minutes, before sighing. "So you're gonna knock me out? Cause that's what you're gonna have to do if you expect me to stay here."_

_He groaned, running his hands over his face in frustration, then he grabbed Starr's shoulders. "Starr. Please, I don't want to hurt you. Just stay. Okay?"_

_"Dean, I can't just—" She didn't get to finish her statement, since Dean's lips came crashing down on hers. At first she tried to pull away from the kiss but he wouldn't let her. Eventually, Starr wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers into his hair. The two stood entangled with each other, forgetting about the world around them, until finally they had to pull apart for some oxygen. He rested his forehead against hers, their eyes closed._

_"Stay." He whispered. "Please?" _

_She took a shaky breath. "Okay." _

xXx

"Starr Kensington."

After hearing the way Dean said the girl's name, Sam knew they had a history. He'd get the story from him later, but for now, they needed to get her cleaned up. He ran back to the Impala and grabbed the duffel bag from the trunk.

"Dean—" But when Sam looked up, his brother was gone. Normally, he would've been worried, but he could see Dean through the curtains, walking to the motel's office. He sighed and got to work.

This girl had so much blood coming from so many places; he wasn't sure where to start. He did know that he wouldn't be able to do much with all her clothes in the way. Although most of her shirt was shredded and jacket were covered in blood.

He took the scissors and cut through what was left of her shirt so he could get to her wounds. He grabbed the ice bucket, filled it with water and cleaned up the blood from her skin. There were five long, jagged claw marks that ran from the left side of her collar-bone, down between her breasts, to her stomach and ended on her right thigh. He sighed and reminded himself to have Dean see if there was a werewolf case here. The majority of the wounds weren't too deep, but where the werewolf's claws had clawed through her stomach was where all the blood was coming from. He got to work there first.

Starr felt the pain of the needle piercing her flesh and inhaled as the thread tugged it together. She fought to open her eyes and saw a man leaning over her midsection, brow furrowed in concentration as he stitched her skin together. But before she could ask who he was, she blacked out again.

Sam noticed that she'd woken up, but continued to work. When he finished with her stitches, he looked over at her, only to find that she'd passed out again. He grabbed the scissors off the bed and cut through the material on her bra. He remembered a time when he would've been plenty embarrassed for doing this, but it was necessary. After the stitches, he wrapped her stomach with an ace bandage.

He only had to apply stitches one of the claw marks on her chest, while the others were treated with butterfly bandages. Covering her top half with a towel, Sam wrapped up the claw marks on her ankle with gauze and an ace bandage. As soon as he was finished, he took the blanket off the floor and covered her with it. While she slept, Sam worked on cleaning up some of the cuts and scrapes on her face.

When Dean returned, he did so with three bags of fast food and three drinks. Setting the food down, he looked at Sam, his hands were covered in blood. Sam grabbed his bag, heading for the bathroom to take a shower and wash the blood off of him. "Hey, look online and see if there's a werewolf in town."

"Why?"

"Her wounds, they look like werewolf claws."

Dean glanced at Starr's pale face with a frown. "Bite marks?"

"No, just the claws." As Sam turned on the shower, Dean propped his feet up on the table and chowed down on a burger while searching for any possible werewolf cases there in San Francisco. After five minutes of research, he concluded that there had been a werewolf in town for at least six months. He finished his food and dragged the chair to Starr's bedside. He clenched his jaw and shook his head.

"Unbelievable." He spat. "After all this time, after everything that happened, you had the nerve to call me for help."

xXx

"I can't, Trick," Mist said. "I can't tell him _everything! _Not only would it crush him that I lied to him, but it is completely against the rules! Rule One: A charge is never to know the true nature of their Guardian. I'll get recycled!"

A smirk covered his face. "Right, because you're a real stickler for the rules." He stood up and smiled sadly. "You, kiddo, are heading down a very dangerous path."

"What are you talking about?" She asked, at least trying to act oblivious. But judging by the raised brow, Mist deduced that the archangel wasn't buying it.

"The kiss." Gabriel said. "You and Sam locking lips."

She felt her face get hot. "How'd you know?"

"Please," He said. "I'm your mentor, kiddo, I check in from time to time, just to make sure everything's peachy."

"Okay, we kissed. Sam and I, but—"

He held up his hand and she stopped. "I got that part. What happened? Why didn't you stop it from happening?"

"Well, obviously, I—" She blinked and as she sat down, came to the conclusion that she didn't exactly know why she didn't stop the kiss. "I- I'm not…"

"I don't believe it." Gabriel's shoulders shook as he laughed. Soon, tears started to escape his eyes. Mist furrowed her brow and tilted her head, wondering what could possibly be that funny. But then, he did have a strange sense of humor sometimes. When he finally got control of himself, he sighed. "You like him, don't you?"

"Sam? Of course I like him, he's my charge—"

"No, no, no." He interrupted, his grin spreading. "You have a schoolgirl crush on him. You might even be in love with him."

Her eyes widened. "No, I'm not." She lowered her voice and hissed at him. "And if you go saying things like that that loudly, you might as well recycle me now! You know that's not allowed. Guardians and their charges are not to be romantically involved. Ever!"

"_I_ understand that. But you obviously don't."

"Gabriel, I don't—"

"Mist." He walked over to her and sat down on the bed next to her. All joking was gone from his face, replaced with serious concern. "You have no idea just how badly things can go if you let this continue."

"What do you mean?" He was starting to worry her.

He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but he shook his head and replaced his smile. "We'll talk about it later, kiddo. We need to talk about—"

He started talking about something else, but she was no longer listening. Mist was trying to read Gabriel's thoughts. But as soon as she started to hear 'they're too afraid of it to try to destroy it', she was shoved out, like a steel wall had hit her. When she looked up, Gabriel had crossed his arms and was looking at her, amused.

"Were you trying to read my mind?" She nodded, knowing it was useless to try lying. "Well don't. I've had a lot of practice with blocking my mind." He stood up, walked towards the door and as he touched the knob, he turned back to Mist.

"Look, kiddo," He said. "Ultimately, it's your choice. Tell Sam, don't tell him, whatever. But remember this; so long as those markings are on you, so long as that deal remains intact, you owe Azazel. I know you want to spare his feelings and all that crap, but you're putting him in more danger than you know. Azazel could tell you to kill Sam. And according to that magic Azazel bound you with, you'd have to. Think about it, Kiddo."

He opened the door and walked out, leaving Mist sitting there, not knowing what to do.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry it took so long to update! I hope you like it!**

* * *

_Seattle, Washington, 2001_

_After turning on the shower, sneaking out the hotel room's bathroom window and hotwiring a car, Starr pulled onto a gravel road outside a vacant building. When she scoped the area, she saw her uncle's blue 92 Pontiac Lemans and John's Impala. She shut off the car, grabbing her duffel bag from the backseat, and got out. She got to the front door and pulled two machetes from her pack. She walked in as silently as she could. _

_She scanned the hall first. Every door was open, the rooms beyond them empty, aside from old desks, or broken chairs. Save one. The door was on her left, and when she tried to open it, found that it was locked. She pressed her ear to the door, listening for any sounds from the inside. She heard something and kicked the door open. _

_There was a set of stairs leading up to the second floor and echoes of a fight reverberated off the walls and were carried down the stairs. She ran up the stairs in time to cut off the head of a vamp who was about to snap John's neck._

_"Starr!" He exclaimed. She extended a hand to help him up. "You shouldn't be here—"_

_"You know what? Save the yelling for Steve and the lecture for Ivy, okay?" She said as he took her hand and got up. Together, they went down the stairs. "We've got a nest to hunt."_

_"Fine." He said, gruffly. "But your aunt is gonna kill me, then you…then me again."_

_She snorted as they turned back into that hallway. A yelp/scream was caught in her throat as she turned the corner to see Dean standing there, looking more than pissed. He was about to tear into her when her eyes widened and she ran past him, to the bloody hunter stumbling down the stairs. _

_"Ivy!" Starr dropped the machetes and rushed forward. Ivy was now lying on the floor; her neck had been chomped on, along with her wrists. Starr took Ivy's arm and tried to pull her up, but she wasn't strong enough to carry her. John and Dean ran over. _

_"Dean, help Starr get Ivy to the car." He took Ivy's other arm and wrapped it around the back of his neck. Together, they dragged her to the car. _

_Dean opened the door to the Pontiac and laid Ivy down in the backseat. She grabbed Starr's wrist and pulled her close. _

_"S-Steve…he's in there, he's—" She passed out again. _

_Starr grabbed Dean's sleeve and pulled him to her. "Slow down the bleeding. I'll go inside and find Steve and your dad."_

_"Starr, no—" But his words were lost as she grabbed the machete and ran into the building. As she searched through it, room by room, floor by floor, John and Steven were in the basement. Two of them held John in place as the third subdued Steve, pulling his arms behind him. The vampire was about to sink his fangs into Steve's neck, when a harsh voice coming from the doorway stopped him._

_"Stop. Release them." Instantaneously, the vampires dropped their victims. The two hunters looked up to see who had commanded the vampires. He had long brown hair, tied back at the base of his neck. He stood tall, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked down at the two hunters in front of him. Both of them, John Winchester and Steven Kensington, were well-known to the supernatural world. Both of them had slaughtered a great many of his children._

_"Hello gentlemen. My name is Nicholias. I can't tell you both how thrilled I am that you're here." He said, walking slowly in front of them. "I mean, the two hunters who've caused my family more death and suffering than any other hunters combined."_

_"Great," Steve snorted. "So you're trying to get us to feel bad about it?" _

_"Steve—" _

_He ignored John and continued. "We don't. You're vermin, every last one of you and you _will_ be ex—"_

_He was cut off as Nicholias struck him. "No. I'm not trying to draw sympathy from you, for you have none. You are an emotionless, a heartless race, you hunters. No. The punishment I have in mind is far more fitting."_

_Nicholias closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. When he opened his eyes, his mouth shifted into a wide grin, showing off his fangs and a dangerous glint in his eyes. "The children are here. Now the fun can begin."_

xXx

Starr was woken up by the sound of people talking. Two men. She decided to find out what she could before alerting them that she was awake.

"So she's clean?" One asked.

"Yep." The second one replied. That one sounded familiar. "Did all the tests while she was asleep. Holy water, silver, salt. She passed 'em all."

"She—"

"Shh." There was a silence as the second voice interrupted the first. "Good morning, princess." She remained still, calling his bluff. "Your left hand twitched, Starr, I know you're awake."

She opened her eyes and quickly scanned the room, taking in the two men.

"Hey," She recognized that voice as the first one. "You feel okay?" The owner of that voice was huge, maybe 6"5". He had long-ish brown hair and was pretty muscular.

"Fine." She replied curtly.

"You're lucky." The other voice said. "That much blood lost, you _should_ be dead. Lucky for you Sam, here is good with the medical stuff."

Her brown eyes flickered to the other man and widened, but she recovered quickly and gave him a tight smile. "Dean Winchester. What are you doing here?"

"The maid found you last night. She said you asked her to call us." He chuckled, though it lacked actual amusement. "I thought we had an agreement."

"Don't flatter yourself, honey." She said with a glare. "I was trying to call John, not you."

He laughed dryly. "Right. You were trying to call him."

"I was, jackass!"

"Right," He repeated. "You're unbelievable."

"And you're an idiot!" She shot back. "Why the hell didn't John answer his phone?"

He only glared. It was Sam who spoke. "You don't know?"

Her gaze flickered to Sam. "Know what?"

He took a seat next to her and looked at her with sympathy. "He died. Our dad died almost seven years ago."

For a moment, she thought she felt her eyes sting. But that wasn't likely, she didn't cry. Instead Starr nodded and sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't know—"

"Seven years and you 'didn't know'?" Dean scoffed. "Please."

She rolled her eyes. "Screw you, Winchester. I _didn't _know. I've been…underground for a while." She turned her gaze to Sam. "He go down fighting?"

He glanced over at Dean, who was glaring down at the newspaper, before closing her eyes.

"Odihnă în pace. [1]" She murmured.

It was Sam who broke the silence that followed. "So you were hunting a werewolf?"

She nodded. "It's dead. Got it last night." From the table, Dean snorted. Starr looked over at him in annoyance. "Got something to say old man?"

Dean narrowed his eyes at her, folded the paper and tossed it onto the bed. Starr grabbed it and looked at the front page. She shook her head as her eyes scanned the words.

Wolf Attacks Continue

"La naiba![2]" She muttered.

"La…what?"

She looked up at Sam and sighed. "Romanian curse." She snapped her fingers at Sam and pointed to her bag. He grabbed it and set it on the bed next to her. She grabbed a shirt out of it and put it on carefully, so as not to give the two men an eyeful.

"Look, I'm flattered you came but—"

"Don't be." Dean snapped. "I didn't know it was you. _Had _I known it was you, I wouldn't have bothered with the trip."

"Dean—" Sam tried to step in.

"But on the bright side, it looks like you'll be in pain for a few weeks." Dean said with a smirk. "So it wasn't a total waste of gas."

"Fuck you." She yelled and pointed to the door. "You don't wanna be here, fine, get the hell out!"

"Great!" He yelled back. "Sam, let's go."

"Dean, we can't just—"

"Sam!" When he saw that his brother wasn't gonna move, he rolled his eyes and stormed out the door, slamming it behind him.

"Dick." Sam looked over at Starr. When she noticed him looking at her, she chuckled a little. "Not you. Dean."

"Right," He breathed. She took a pair of pants out of the bag and got up out of the bed. Sam awkwardly looked out the window as she got dressed.

"Please," She said, zipping up her jeans. "Nothing you haven't seen before. And thanks for stitching me up, Doc."

He chuckled. "No problem. So there are two werewolves here?"

She nodded. "And I've got the rest of today and tonight to find it." She stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "I'm sorry, who are you, exactly?"

"Oh," He extended his hand. "Sam Winchester, I'm—"

"Dean's little brother." She finished, shaking his hand. "He mentioned you once. I'm Starr Kensington."

He nodded. "Listen, I know you and Dean have a history," He glanced at the door. "And judging by that warm reunion, I'd say it's bad one, but you're not up to full strength yet. If we worked together—"

She held up her hand. "I don't think so, Sam. Thanks for the offer, but I've already got to watch my back for a werewolf. I don't wanna have to watch for Dean too. Besides, I don't play well with others." She grinned naughtily. "I bite."

"I'll talk to Dean." He told her. He saw that she wasn't going to agree and brought out what Dean called his 'puppy-dog' face. "Please? I don't want you to pop those stitches. Plus, you've been tracking this thing and you know its hunting grounds."

She bit the inside of her lip and contemplated the idea. She hadn't worked with another hunter for ten years. Finally, she nodded.

"Okay. Let's hunt this thing."

xXx

"Sam—"

"Dean, it'll only be for one day."

"Yeah. And a night. That's like _two_ days!" Sam had found Dean in a bar, a few blocks away from the hotel and had been trying to get him to agree to work with Starr. So far, it was unsuccessful.

"Come on, Dean." Sam reasoned. "She can't be _that _bad."

Dean snorted. "Oh yes she can."

"Dean." Sam sighed. "You're being unreasonable."

"Unreasonable?" Dean asked incredulously. "I'm being— Never mind. You wanna work with her? Fine." Sam nodded and took a drink of his beer. "But you're gonna be sorry you did."

"What happened?" Sam inquired. "Why do you hate her so badly?"

Dean shook his head. "She doesn't care about anyone but herself. And she'll sacrifice anything…any_one_, if it gets her what she wants."

"And?"

Dean raised his brows at his younger brother. "_And? _What do you mean, _and_?"

"And…what's the rest of the story?" Dean looked at him with a blank look. "Come on, you can't hate her just because she's got a higher sense of self-preservation. What really happened?"

Dean downed the rest of his beer and ordered another. "She stabbed me in the back."

xXx

_As quietly as possible, Starr climbed up the stairs to the fifth floor. Machete in one hand, she used the other to open the door. She checked room after room, most of them empty except for some broken chairs and old dusty desks and bookshelves, until there was only one left. She inspected the door before pushing it open. It was at least 8 inches of thick steel with a lock on the outside._

_As soon as she stepped in, her breath was taken from her lungs as someone kicked her in the back; Starr flew into the room and collided with the floor. She laid there for a moment, trying to get her lungs to accept the air she was trying to inhale. _

_"Well, hello Starr." A cold, smooth voice greeted. She looked up to see a man, he was tall, probably around 6"3", with long brown hair and dark eyes that seemed to see right through her. He walked toward her and knelt next to her. He smiled, moving his hand to her face and running his cold fingers across her cheek. "Aren't you a beauty?"_

_She spat in his face. _

_He merely smiled, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping away the spittle. He watched her as her eyes found Steve. He was being held up by two vampires and most of his face was badly beaten. She looked around for the other hunter, but when she failed to find him, she looked up at the vampire hovering over her. _

_"Where's John?" When she saw him in the corner of the room, a little bloodied up, but not so much as her uncle. She looked over at Steven. "You good?" A nod from him was all she needed to feel more confident. _

_The vampire picked her up by her throat and lifted her up against the wall, about a foot and a half off the ground. She pried at his hands, trying to loosen them, but without prevail. "The other one is almost here, isn't he?" _

_Then, as if to prove his words correct, Dean came through the door and a head went rolling before he saw Starr being held up against the wall. "Let her go."_

_"You see," Nicholias purred. "I'm the one with the leverage here, boy. So here's my counter offer: Drop the blade, or I snap her pretty little neck. Then your father's."_

_With obvious reluctance, Dean dropped the machete; it clattered on the floor as Nicholias loosened his grip ever so slightly. With the snap of his fingers, two of Nicholias' vampires subdued Dean, tying him to a chair. They did the same to Steven and John. Nicholias looked down at the girl and buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her scent, and another's. With an amused smile, he caught a whiff of Dean. _

_"The boy's scent is all over you, my dear, did you know that?" He looked at Dean. "And hers is on you." He laughed and returned his gaze to the girl. "Ah, young lovers. This will only make things more interesting. And far more entertaining."_

_"Let go of me!" Starr managed to whisper. _

_Nicholias tilted his head in amusement. "Would you like to go? To leave with your family and never worry about us again?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Alright." _

_He dropped her to the floor and watched her in delight as she tried to regain her breath. After a moment, she got to her knees and stood up, giving the vampire a cold glare. _

_"Oh I like her, Steven, she's a tough one." He said softly. "So what's your name, my dear?"_

_"Starr." _

_He laughed. "Well, Starr, would you like to leave with your family this night?" She didn't answer. "I can make that happen. All you have to do is decide."_

_"Decide what?"_

_He smiled a sickly sweet smile that made her skin crawl. "Only three can leave this room, this building, alive. So who's it going to be Starr? Your dear uncle, John, or your lover? Who dies tonight?"_

_Her eyes were wide as they flickered from Dean to John to Steve and finally back to Nicholias. She shook her head. "No."_

_He frowned. "What?"_

_"I won't choose." She said. "I'm not playing your games."_

_He raised his brows. "I'll bet you think you're being courageous, don't you, child? Choose now. Or the next offer won't be as generous."_

_She crossed her arms tenaciously. _

_"Fine." He walked behind her and whispered in her ear. "You should've taken the first proposition." He stood beside her now and spoke up. "Since you wouldn't pick before, I'm upping the stakes. Save Steve. Or John. Or your lover? Now only one of them may leave with you, dearie." _

_"No." She said, keeping her eyes straight ahead. _

_Nicholas grabbed a gun from John's holster and shot Steven in the leg. He held her back as she tried to run forward. _

_"This is no game, Starr. Now choose." She squeezed her eyes shut to keep tears from escaping. "I don't see what the big deal is. Why are you even pretending to make a decision? We both know you're going to save your uncle. Even after all the lies he's told you."_

_She shook her head. "He's never lied to me."_

_"You don't know the truth, do you, Starr? About mommy dearest?" She glanced at Steven. "Shall I tell the girl the truth about her mother?" _

_"You don't know anything about my mother!" _

_"Oh but I do, Starr, I know more than you do." He said. "You were told that your mother was killed by vampires. But that wasn't entirely true, was it Steven?"_

_"Don't." The older hunter muttered, trying desperately to stay conscious. _

_"You mother was fighting off vampires, but she knew she couldn't handle them all herself. She called for backup, for her big brother. He ignored her cry for help on the radio. He just clicked it off." Starr stared at him and slowly shook her head. "Don't believe me? Ask him."_

_She looked to her uncle. "It's not true, is it? He's lying." When he didn't answer, her eyes started to water. "Steve?"_

_He hung his head. "It's true." She could no longer look at him. "Starr, listen to me, I didn't know there were that many. I had told her I wouldn't hunt ever again and when she called—"_

_"You left her to die?" _

_"Starr," Nicholias interrupted. "You've still got a decision to make."_

_She closed her eyes for a moment and squeezed them shut. "Steve."_

_"Really?" The vamp asked. "Even after what he did? I guess blood _is_ thicker—"_

_"He saved my life before." She said, sounding cold and emotionless. "This has nothing to do with blood, I owe him a debt and doing this will clear it. I choose Steven."_

_"Okay then," He said. She started to move towards Dean, but Nicholias grabbed her arm. "Only one, dearie."_

_"I need to say goodbye." He smirked and released her. She walked over to him and knelt down. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she slipped a knife into his hand. Before standing up, she kissed him lightly. She turned to Nicholias and nodded to her uncle. "Untie him." _

_She went to him as his bonds were cut and put his arm around her shoulders, putting her arm under his for support. They got to the door and Starr looked back at Dean. "I'm sorry, Dean, John."_

_John nodded and smiled sadly. "its okay, Starr."_

_"Dearie," Nicholias called. "This doesn't mean you're safe forever. I'm only giving you and your family a day's head start to begin running. Because wherever you are, I will find you all and you'll join your precious mother. Understand?"_

_She nodded and left then, not looking back._

Present Day

"Come on, Dean," Sam said. "You can't hate her for choosing her own family over some people she just met. It was her uncle for god's sake."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You think that's why I hate her?" He knocked back his shot. "The reason I hate her comes next. So stop interrupting."

Sam raised his hands in defense. "Sorry, please continue."

_2001_

_As soon as she got her uncle outside and into the car, she ran back inside and to the basement, she could see Dean and John fighting off the vamps, she ran down and found Dean.  
"Dean!" She ducked as he cut off a vamp's head. "Get you and your dad out, I'll be standing behind the door. When you come through it, I'll shut it. Then we'll blow this place up. Steve's got some dynamite in the trunk."_

_"Got it!" He fought to get to his dad as Starr ran up the stairs and waited behind the door. She waited there for a while before looking down the stairs. John was getting chomped on while Dean fought of three vampires. She slammed the door shut and bolted it as Nicholias ascended the stairs. She leaned her back against the door and slid down to the ground. After a while of silent tears and screams from the basement, she heard her cell phone ring. _

_With a shaking hand, she pressed the green 'send' button and brought it to her ear. But she couldn't find her voice. _

_"Starr?" Dean's worried voice called through the phone. _

_Her breath caught as her mind registered who it was. "Dean? You're alive."_

_"Yeah, I'm fine." He said. "You've gotta open the door. My dad's hurt pretty bad."_

_She stood up to see Dean's face through the glass in the door. "Okay, just one sec—"A bloody hand covered her own. She looked up to see Steve, shaking his head. "It's okay, they killed off the vampires."_

_"Yes," He croaked. "But at a price."_

_"What?" _

_"They've been turned, Starr." He told her, looking through the glass at Dean's face. "Those leeches turned them into vampires."_

_She shook her head. "No, but Dean—he—"_

_"Starr? Listen to me." Dean said over the phone. "It's not true, they never turned us, I swear."_

_Steven took the phone and ended the call. "Starr, that thing, isn't Dean, not anymore. And John is gone too."_

_"But—"_

_"We have to kill them, Starr." Her eyes widened and she shook her head. "We can't damn them to an eternity of being evil. To become the very thing they used to hunt. It's what they would've wanted, Starr."_

_"No…" She shook her head over and over. _

_He took her face between his hands and made her look at him. "Be brave, like Dean and John, have the courage to do what's right."_

_Taking one last look at Dean's face, she followed her uncle to the car and together, they set up dynamite around the building and lit the fuse. They drove as fast as they could and when they were fifty miles away, the building completely blew. _

_They sat in the hospital as the doctors took Ivy in for a blood transfusion and stitch her up. Steve needed several stitches and a sling for his arm, but Starr didn't need much medical attention, nothing a first aid kit couldn't fix. _

_Starr had gone back to the hotel and sat down on the bed that she and Dean had shared only hours ago. How could everything go from blissfully perfect, to a nightmare in such a short amount of time? It didn't seem possible. None of this did. She felt like she was dreaming. After an hour of sitting quietly, she got up and went to the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. As if seeing the pain on her face would get rid of the numbness that was filling her up. It didn't. She almost didn't register when someone knocked on the door. She walked to the door, opened it and was greeted by a punch to the face. When she looked up, Starr nearly cried out._

_"Dean?" She breathed. He was covered in blood and dirt. She moved to hug him, but was shoved back. She paid no mind to it. "You're alive?"_

_"Yeah. Sorry to disappoint." He spat. _

_"But how?" _

_"The underground tunnels in the basement." He said. "Guess you didn't think of everything did you? Look, I came to tell you one thing: Don't ever let me see your face again. Got it?"_

_"Wh- Dean," She could barely form a thought. "What do you mean?"_

_"I mean," He took a step closer. "If I ever see you again. I'll kill you."_

_"What- why?"_

_"Why?" His eyes were lit up with rage. "_Why! _Because you and your uncle just tried to kill us, that's why!"_

_He turned and walked out to the parking lot. "Dean!" She called, running after him. She grabbed his arm. "I'm sorry, we thought—"_

_"No," He yelled. "_Steven_ thought, not you. You just blindly followed him and if you had bothered to listen to me—" He couldn't even finish._

_"Dean, I-I'm sorry." She said. "Please believe me, I—"_

_"Why are you still pretending you care?" He yelled. "You just tried to kill me!"_

_"No!" She yelled back. "I _do _care, Dean. I care about you! And I'm sorry! Please…"_

_The glare he gave her was enough to bring tears to her eyes. "Well, I don't. I couldn't care less about you, Kensington. Never did, never will." _

_He turned and started walking to the parked Impala. Starr watched him as tears fell. "Dean?"_

_"Go back to your uncle and don't come looking for me. _Ever_." He continued to walk to the Impala as she started to reach out to touch his arm. He stopped in front of the driver's side door and turned his head slightly. "Oh, and go to hell."_

xXx

Present Day

Sam was silent.

"Yeah," Dean said, downing the rest of his beer. "_That's _why I hate her."

The younger Winchester sighed. "Dean…that was a long time ago. Maybe it's time to put the past behind you. Forgive her."

Dean's eyes about popped out of his head. "_What? _Did I hear you right?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Cause it sounds like you actually want me to forgive that bitch, after she deliberately tried to kill me and dad."

"It _sounds like _she idolized her uncle, like you idolized dad." Sam said. "She was just obeying his orders."

"Like a good little soldier." Dean muttered, staring intently at the bar.

"Like you." Dean looked up then. Part of him understood. But the rest of him didn't care. "Think about it, Dean, what if dad had given you the same orders? We both know you would've done the same thing she did."

"I wouldn't leave them to die without knowing for sure."

"_Now, _yeah. But not then, when you and dad hunted together." Sam glanced at the clock. Only an hour till nightfall. "Can you stow away your crap until after we kill this thing?"

Dean thought about it and nodded. "But after this, we're leaving. We're not having some Dr. Phil session to get past this, got it?"

"Okay." He stood up and laid some money on the bar. "Then let's get back to the hotel."

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**[1] Odihnă în pace means "Rest in Peace" in Romainian. **

**[2] La Nabia means "Damn it" in Romianian.**

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**What did you think? Please R&R! **


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